


The Life and Lies of Sirius Black

by imSiriuslyLupin4you (mostvillainsneedhugs)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Baby!Teddy Lupin, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger - Freeform, Invasion of Privacy, M/M, Marauders' Era, Memories, Puppy Love, The Golden Trio, penseive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostvillainsneedhugs/pseuds/imSiriuslyLupin4you
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds a box and has the chance to learn more about his Godfather than he ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Crows and Green Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction . net, but after rereading I realized that it was not as good as I originally thought. So, I decided to rewrite it and post it here! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While cleaning out Sirius' old bedroom, Harry makes an interesting discovery.

     Life after the War was all consuming in a way that only could come from boredom. There were no mysteries to solve, no darkness to fight, and the greatest challenge that Harry had to face was the particularly nefarious dust that lived under the sitting room couch in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry had enlisted the help the help of Ron and Hermione, as well as little Teddy Lupin (though the one year old was much more likely to eat the dust bunnies, rather than clear them away) to make the old house habitable for permanent residents.  
     

A lot had been done in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to make it livable. Fresh paint adorned the walls, the rugs had been beaten, and everything with even a hint of dark magic had been stowed away in the cellar. Even Walburga Black’s portrait had been removed from the wall and stored with the curious objects in the cellar, though a large hole remained in the wall as a reminder of her presence.  
       

Harry was desperate to make the house feel like home. Kreacher was a huge help of course, deliriously happy to be included in the renovation of his Master’s home. Between the elderly house elf, and Hermione’s knack for household charms, Grimmauld place was looking more and more like an actual house every day.  
       

Though despite Harry’s longing to finish the home, the War had brought on an onslaught of new responsibilities. and Harry, still only a mere child of eighteen, felt entirely overwhelmed. Little Teddy Lupin was the only breath of fresh air in the musty old house. He spent most of his days being raised by his grandmother, but Harry often took the child out of Andromeda’s hands for visits at the park and days at Grimmauld Place. Teddy’s shock of brightly colored hair brought an air of cheeriness to the drab grey of the old house, and Harry was grateful. Even though Harry’s days were filled with cleaning, trips to the Ministry, and preparing for a future career as an Auror, he always found time to play with Teddy and to make the little boy laugh.  
     

Teddy was attempting to gnaw on a rather slippery teething toy while Harry entertained him with brightly colored puffs of smoke when Hermione ran into the room with an odd expression upon her face.  
       

“Harry?” Hermione stood at the doorway of the drawing room. “Could you come upstairs for a moment?”  
       

Harry grimaced slightly. A headache was lingering behind his eyeballs and the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with an aggressive piece of furniture or fanged slippers. “Isn’t Ron up there?”  
         

Hermione gave a jerky nod. “Yes, but… I think you need to come see this.”  
         

Studying her face, Harry realized that Hermione was not about to let him talk his way out of venturing upstairs. “What happened?”  
       

“Ron and I were clearing the rest of Sirius’ things out of his old bedroom and we found-” Hermione stopped talking abruptly and took a deep breath. “You’d better come see this for yourself.”

       

Harry stood up slowly, and brushed dust off of his legs, vaguely thinking that it shouldn’t be so dirty after the very thorough scrubbing that was inflicted upon it the day before last. Stooping low to pick up his drooling Godson, Harry followed Hermione up the stairs and into Sirius’ old bedroom. Entering the room, they found Ron sitting on the old sagging mattress with a big black box sitting innocently next to him.  
         

The box was obviously old, and had three angry looking ravens etched onto the lid . Harry belatedly realized that they were the same birds that were on the Black family crest. The raven in the middle glared at Harry and ruffled it’s feathers haughtily.  
         

“What’s inside?” Harry handed Teddy over to Hermione and knelt in front of the box. One of the ravens opened it’s beak as if to squawk on offence, before stretching it’s wings and flying to the other side of the box and out of sight.  
           

“It was in the closet.” Ron said. “It had a really strong concealment charm, I nearly broke my toe on it.” He glanced up at Harry, as if trying to predict what his reaction. “We opened the box, and it was full of old papers and photographs… and a pensieve.”  
           

“I came and found you as soon as we found it.” Hermione added, wincing slightly as Teddy pulled on her hair for attention.  
         

“Sirius had a Pensieve?” Harry asked eagerly. He greedily yanked the lid off of the box, ignoring the angry fluttering of the remaining crows, and peered inside. Resting on top of a cluster of bits of parchment and photographs was a large stone basin covered with odd runic symbols. The basin was filled with a silvery substance that looked like a liquid patronous. A strange spark lit up in Harry’s chest, part excitement but mostly nervousness. Despite living in his childhood home for over a year, Harry would be able to see what his Godfather’s life was really like.  
         

Harry unconsciously leaned closer to the surface on the penseive, nearly vibrating out of his skin with excitement. Hermione’s voice broke through the haze of anticipation and halted Harry’s urge to plunge face first into the shimmering liquid. “Are you sure you want to look inside Sirius’ memories?” Hermione frowned. “If it was hidden, Sirius may not have wanted it to be found.”  
           

“Of course Harry wants to look.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Sirius left the entire house to Harry, including demonic furniture, the senile house elf, and the box. He’s every right to look inside.”  
           

Harry smiled gratefully at Ron, and then turned a pitiful look upon Hermione. “I haven’t any memories of my parents, and Sirius might. This way I’ll get to know them better for myself. And I’ll see Sirius again.”  
         

“Harry, I don’t think you should look.” Hermione shot a nervous glance at the pensieve. “If Sirius wanted you to see the memories he would have shown you himself, or at least have told you about them. And besides-“

            

“I haven’t got any memories of my parents.” Harry repeated softly, trying not to feel as if he were tarnishing Sirius’ memory by so blatantly invading his privacy. “I just want to see my parents, and Sirius again. Professor Lupin too. Is that so wrong?”

           

A guilty expression formed on Hermione’s face. “I guess it won’t be too bad if you just take a quick look.”  
           

“Of course it wont be too bad.” Ron scoffed, “You just want an excuse to worry.”  
           

Hermione sniffed indignantly, and shuffled Teddy to rest on her hip. “I just don’t think that Sirius would be very pleased if he knew we were going through his things.” Her voice held the familiar self-righteousness of skivved off homework assignments and midnight adventures.  
         

“Well, he’s dead so he really doesn’t have a say-“ Ron and Hermione continued to argue. Harry turned away from the bickering couple and locked eyes with his Godson. Teddy’s eyes were green today, and almond shaped, mimicking Harry’s so perfectly that he could’ve been looking into a mirror. ‘ _They shouldn’t be green_.’ Harry thought suddenly. They should be whiskey colored and intelligent… or the warm grey that was shared by Andromeda and Tonks when she wasn’t trying to entertain the Order. Teddy laughed shrilly, and blew a spit bubble, breaking Harry away from his melancholic thoughts.  
           

Harry cleared his throat, halting the argument. “I’m going to have a go in the pensieve- don’t give me that look Hermione- I’m going to look and I want you two to come with me.”  
           

“Oh Harry, are you sure you want us to come with you? This is really personal…”  
Hermione trailed off as Harry waved away her protests, feigning nonchalance. “Of course I’m sure. You two are my best friends, and I want you to come with.”  
           

“Are we going now?” Ron asked eagerly.  
           

Harry opened his mouth to eagerly respond, but Hermione spoke before he could utter a single sound. “We should at least wait until Mrs. Tonks comes to pick Teddy up for the week.”  
         

“Yes, but then we’ll take a stroll down memory lane!” Ron crowed, startling Teddy with the sudden noise. “Oh bugger- I mean ‘darn’. Don’t cry, Ted. I was just celebrating-“  
           

The rest of the day passed in a grey tinged blur. All Harry could think about was the pensieve in Sirius’ room and the memories that were just waiting to be seen. Even Teddy’s triumph over a particularly challenging block tower paled in comparison to the thought of glimpsing a peek into the life of his Parents. Throughout the day, Harry found himself whispering promises into Teddy’s ear, swearing that he’d pay special attention to Remus, so that he’d be able share the stories when Teddy grew old enough to understand the words.  
           

That night, as soon as the last emerald green flame flickered and died in the fireplace, Harry sprinted up the creaking stairs to Sirius’ room where he anxiously waited for Ron and Hermione. When they arrived a few moments later, Harry was positively quivering with a nervous energy that he hadn’t felt since his days at Hogwarts.  
           

“You go first, and I’ll follow you in.” Harry swallowed tightly, trying to appear relaxed.  
         

“Are you sure you want us to go first?” Ron asked, glancing down at the penseive nervously. It suddenly occurred to Harry that neither of his friends had ever used a penseive before, but even with that revelation, Harry hung back.  
             

”I’m sure.” He gave a watery smile, “I’ll be right behind you.  
         

Ron returned the smile, the freckles around his lips stretching with the grin, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before kneeling in front of the pensieve and putting his face in the silvery liquid. Harry gasped as he watched Ron disappear into the shallow stone bowl. Hermione went next, casting a concerned look over her shoulder before tumbling after Ron.  
         

Harry nodded to himself, gulping down his uncertainties. “Here goes...” Holding his breath, Harry plunged his face into the pensieve's silvery depths. Feeling the familiar uncomfortable feeling of falling into a bottomless darkness, Harry plummeted into the memories of Sirius Black.


	2. The Rise and Fall of the Little Star

Harry landed heavily on his feet. Stumbling slightly, Harry threw his hand out and grasped at Ron’s shoulder. Straightening up and looking around at his surroundings, Harry realized that they were standing in the same room that they had just left. Though instead of the explosion of naughty posters and Gryffindor colors, the bedroom was Spartan and looked more like a picture for a magazine than a place to sleep. The walls were sparse, save for a few portraits and a grotesquely moving diagram of the skeleton of a king cobra.  It was too clean and elegant, and though he knew it was impossible to cause any damage, Harry was afraid to touch anything.

Sitting in the middle of the large bed was a black haired boy, no older than six, who looked terribly out of place in the immaculate bedroom. With a jolt Harry realized the boy was his young Godfather. The child Sirius was playing with something on his lap. Harry peered closer and saw that it was a chocolate frog, trying valiantly to escape its delicious fate.

Then there was a loud popping sound and Kreacher, now a capable young house elf looking to be at the peak of his service, appeared at the foot of the bed. “Kreacher is here to tell Young Master to come downstairs.”

Sirius sneered. “ _Mother_ sent me in here. How am I supposed to come downstairs if I’m not apposed to leave my room?” He slowly started to pull the frog’s legs from its body and tossed them onto the spotless floor, where they twitched in a grossly convincing manner.

Kreacher began to shake his head frantically. “Oh no Young Master!” He squeaked desperately. “You is not making Kreacher go against Mistress! You is not making him!”

Sirius tossed his head and jumped off of the bed with a grace unbefitting of such a young child. “Fine, I’ll go downstairs…” He paused and a calculating look crossed over his face. “But you’re making me disobey one of Mother’s _direct orders_ , so’s you still hafta punish yourself, okay Kree?” With a final toss of his head, Sirius flounced out of the bedroom, leaving Kreacher standing in a stunned silence and the limbless frog still squirming on the bed.

“Nasty little bugger, wasn’t he?” Ron muttered as he, Harry, and Hermione followed Sirius down the now familiar stairs.

Harry chose not to answer. He had known, in some dark recess of his mind, that Sirius had always held the same disdain for ‘lesser’ creatures that the rest of the Black family did. But, it was one thing to witness a grown man getting into shouting matches with a living memory of a hellish childhood, and another matter entirely to see a young child being intentionally cruel out of nothing but spite and a dangerously unpleasant sense of humor.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when Sirius lead the trio into the drawing room where a ethereally beautiful woman and a man, who shared her eyes and mouth, sat on one of the uncomfortable looking settees that Molly Weasley had banished to the attic in the summer before Fifth Year. Sirius strutted up to the cold looking couple, and gave an impressive looking bow.

“You summoned me, Mother?”

Mrs. Black nodded sharply. “I have decided not to punish you for your… _mishap_ with your father’s wand and Grandmother Melania’s portrait.”

Sirius scowled and crossed his arms over his small chest in an exaggerated pout. “Good, cause it wasn’t my fault! She said my hair made me look like a girl.”

Much to Harry’s surprise, a small smile flickered across Mrs. Black’s face and she patted the space between her and Mr. Black. “Come here, Little Star. I have a lesson for you.”

Sirius ran the short distance to his mother and scrambled onto the settee, pressing his small body against her side. Mrs. Black stroked his baby soft hair with a fond expression cast upon her face. “Little Star, do you know what being a part of the Noble and most Ancient House of Black means?”

Sirius thought for a moment, his childish face screwed up in concentration. “It means that we’re the most purest of all wizards.”

Mr. Black gave an undignified bark of laughter that was so achingly familiar that Harry’s throat threatened to close with tears, and ruffled Sirius’ hair. “Yes that’s true, but I don’t think that’s what your mother meant.”

“They’re much kinder than I expected.” Hermione whispered suddenly. “I almost thought that they would treat Sirius like the Dursley’s treated-”

“What I meant was-“ Mrs. Black voice interrupted Hermione’s comment. “That we Blacks must set ourselves to a higher standard to the rest of wizarding society. We cannot lower ourselves to the same stock as those Weasleys-“ Ron stiffened angrily. “Or of those mudbloods that keep infiltrating the Ministry... We Blacks must hold our heads up high above those who seek to bring us down to the same level as they. Even if those who seek our destruction are dusty portraits in the West most corridor.” Mrs. Black stroked Sirius’ cheek, still round with baby fat, with a perfectly manicured hand. “Do you understand, Darling?”

“Yes Mother.” Sirius appeared to be thinking deeply about something. “But what if someone-“ Sirius’ question was interrupted by a sudden loud squalling. Sirius groaned dramatically and threw himself face first into his father’s lap. “I think Reg is broked.” Sirius’ voice was barely distinguishable from where his face was buried inside of heavy black fabric. “He’s _cryin’_ again!”

The corners of Mrs. Black’s mouth tightened with annoyance as the sounds of Regulus wailing continued to ring through the large house. “Why hasn’t Kreacher _done_ anything yet?” She snapped, a scowl marring her perfect features as she looked towards her Husband. “Orion, I told you that he came from an unworthy litter. We should have taken in Hepzibah Smith’s elf after she died, instead of purchasing one without an _inkling_ of experience. Or at least have kept Mog around to train Kreacher before putting her on the wall.”

”Walburga, Darling, I hardly think that drastic age and _poisoning_ one’s Madame is a characteristic one generally looks for in a new servant-“

“He’s busy punishing herself.” Sirius’ voice floated up from the deep folds of Mr. Black’s robe. “I told him to, because he told me to go downstairs when _Mother_ told me to go _upstairs_.”

There was a long shocked silence and then Mr. Black started to laugh. He laughed so hard that Sirius’ head started to bounce on his lap, causing the young boy to sit up and cast a baleful glare towards his father. “What’s so funny?” Mr. Black just shook his head and left the room, still chortling merrily. “ _What?_ ” Sirius grabbed one of his mother’s arms with both of his small hands. “Mother, why is Father laughing like that?”

Mrs. Black dotingly cupped her son’s face in with her hands, and placed a soft kiss on Sirius’ forehead. “He’s just proud of you, Little Star. You’re going to be our perfect little Slytherin Prince…”

The memory began to fade, and a hard rock was quickly settling itself into Harry’s stomach. He had expected the memories to revolve around hilarious misadventures at Hogwarts, and joyful exploits with Harry’s father and Lupin… Harry didn’t _want_ to think of the Blacks as affectionate and loving parents, but as cruel blood-obsessed bigots. It went against everything that he had imagined when Sirius had gone into angry rants about blood mania and inequality. Never in a million years did Harry think that Sirius could have wanted to be one of them.

“Why would Sirius want to remember _that_?” Ron’s voice echoed slightly as the next memory began to form. “I thought he hated his mum.”

“It’s obvious isn’t it?” Hermione spoke up, the Black’s dining room beginning to take form around her. “Surely that must have been the last time that they were truly proud of Sirius.”

Harry chose to remain silent, not trusting himself to speak. Instead he watched Sirius, now a few years older, smear preserves onto a thick slice of bread while he, his parents, and a young boy who had to be Regulus Black, sat around a large, beautifully carved mahogany dining table. Mrs. Black was stirring a china cup delicately with an ornate spoon, and speaking to her husband; though Harry suspected that she just liked the sound of her own voice.

“-married so _soon_ after Hogwarts, I r _ather_ suspect that she may be with child, can you just _imagine_? Druella was telling me over midmorning tea just yesterday, that all of Bella’s relationships have always been… well, purely _physical,_ if you catch my meaning Orion,though it is rather lucky that the marriage is to be with a Lestrange! Ermit Goyle, you know, Irma’s brother’s nephew, was actually considering a courtship with Bella, but of course she declined, which is all for the better I think. He is honestly so tremendously fat and   _hideous_ looking that it would be almost as bad as marrying one of the Prewett brothers! I’m not serious- yes, Darling, I know that you are _always_ Sirius. Honestly Orion, we should have named him after my father- I’m not, to say, speaking the truth, of course, about joining with the Prewett’s side I mean. They’ve always been a rather raucous bunch of dumpy blood traitors and mudblood lovers, but at least _their_ blood is very pure, almost as clear as the Malfoy’s you know, and the Prewett hair a very interesting color.” Mrs. Black stopped speaking to take a sip of her well-stirred tea, and Mr. Black cast her a fond look from over his soft-boiled egg.

“We can’t all share your loveliness, Walburga. It is truly a unique sort of perfection.”

Sirius began to mime gagging and vomiting onto the shining marble floor, and Regulus giggled shrilly at his older brother’s antics.

Mrs. Black gave both of her children a disapproving look, but before she could reprimand either of them, Kreacher appeared suddenly at Mrs. Black’s side with a sharp popping sound. Glancing nervously at Sirius, who gave him a shark-like grin, Kreacher edged closer to Mrs. Black with something akin to fear in his large bulbous eyes. Shuffling nervously, Kreacher handed Mrs. Black a thick beige envelope with emerald writing and a wax seal.

“A letter has come for young Master Sirius, Mistress.”

“Let me see it!” Sirius stood upon his chair, and lurched across the table to snatch the letter from his mother’s hands. “I want to read my own mail! Kreacher, didn’t I say to always bring me my post?”

Kreacher cast a fearful look towards Sirius. “K-Kreacher is thinking Master Sirius was making jokes. Master Sirius is _never_ getting owl post before-“

“An order is an order!” Sirius exclaimed, triumphantly tearing the wax seal from the thick parchment. “You must repent, Kreacher! Fifty lashes to your own buttocks with a fresh green willow switch!” The letter was out of the envelope now, and Sirius was waving it like a conquering flag as he glared down at Kreacher. “And don’t be too gentle, neither! I’ll be able to _tell_ -“

“Sirius,” Mrs. Black gently plucked the letter from Sirius’ hand. “Kreacher will not have to punish himself for this, as he was following _my_ orders. I expected this particular letter, and I was hoping to read it over before you got your sticky hands all over it.” Mrs. Black withdrew an elegant looking wand from the folds of her sleeve and tapped it against a glob of preserves that had smudged the emerald writing, instantly restoring the letter to it’s previous state. “This is your Hogwarts letter Dear, and I shall keep it with me for the time being. I don’t want you burning it to a crisp with firecrackers before we get to Diagon Ally!”

The memory faded away, and then Harry, Ron and Hermione were with Sirius as the young boy stood in Hogwarts’ Great Hall with a long line of wet First Years waiting to be sorted, while rain drummed on the enchanted ceiling. Harry felt a little bit of the tension that had gathered in his chest crumble away. ‘ _Everything will be better now.’_ He found himself thinking. And it would be… Sirius was in Hogwarts now. About to be sorted into the House where he would grow to be a brave and noble man, a _true_ Gryffindor and not a spoilt Slytherin brat.

“He really hasn’t changed much, has he?” Hermione’s slightly wistful voice wafted from slightly behind Harry’s left shoulder. Harry glanced at his friend and then followed her line of sight to where Dumbledore was sitting at the center of the Staff’s table. The Headmaster was smiling vaguely and nodding along merrily to the Sorting Hat’s song. Harry couldn’t bring himself to listen t the lyrics, too focused on trying to pinpoint his father in the throng of dripping First Years. The Hat’s voice faded away, and the Hall burst into applause.

“Quiet! Quiet please!” An extremely muscular looking wizard in charred robes fired a sound like a gunshot out of his stubby wand, and many of the First Years gave exaggerated leaps of fear, and one small girl began to cry.  “When I call your name, march forward to be sorted! Alwein, Martin!” A tall skinny boy with golden curls stumbled up to the stool. The Hat had barely touched his head when it shouted “RAVENCLAW!” Alwein let out a breath of relief and darted to join his cheering peers. Three more students were sorted (Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Slytherin) and then the name Black, Sirius was called, and Harry’s Godfather strutted up to the muscular wizard, waving coyly at the Slytherin table. Reaching the stool, Sirius sat and made quite a show of getting comfortable on the hard stool and smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in his school robes.

            The Sorting Hat was placed on Sirius’ head, and then something very strange happened. The memory suddenly went out of focus, as if Harry’s glasses had disappeared, and the Sorting Hat’s voice rang out from all directions. “ _A Black, eh?”_

            “What’s happening?” Ron demanded. “Why has it gone all fuzzy?”

            “Pensieves are meant to hold the memories of their owners.” Hermione murmured quietly, as the Hat made odd tutting and humming sounds. “It makes sense that if all Sirius could see and hear was the Sorting Hat, that’s all we’ll be able to see and hear as well.”

            The Hat started to speak in it’s echoing voice, and Hermione trailed off. “ _I’ve sorted your entire family, Boy, and your mind is quite unlike the rest- hm? No, no, it is not because you are more clever… though you are rather clever, aren’t you boy?_ ” A teasing lilt touched the Hat’s voice. “ _If I thought you’d do well in Ravenclaw, I’d stick you there in a moment… but you would do much better in Hufflepuff- no? You are loyal, Boy. One of the most loyal since Helga herself, but if you insist… no, I shan’t put you in Slytherin. Your ambition may be great, but your loyalty far surpasses that. I’d put you in Hufflepuff… but let it not be said that I never take some of the student’s requests to heart- no, Black, that does not mean that I shall send you to Slytherin, I will not be directly responsible for a student’s path to destruction. There is one house left, and I shan’t reconsider- If you don’t like it, you can either go home, or wear yellow proudly upon your breast. Though it is not my first choice, I do think that you will do very well in_ GRYFFINDOR!”

            The memory was thrown back into sharp focus as the Hat was pulled from Sirius’ head and whispers broke out all through the Great Hall.

            “Did Kettleburn say Sirius _Black_ ’?”

            “In _Gryffindor_?”

            “ _I_ thought that all the Blacks were Dark Wizards...”

            “It must be a _different_ Black. There’s never been one not in Slytherin.”

            Even some of the teachers were muttering among themselves. The only person in the memory who didn’t seem to notice Sirius’ surname or care either way, was Professor Kettleburn. “Mr. Black, you are holding up the rest of the Sorting. Please move along to your designated House table.” The burly wizard barked. Sirius started, and looked up at the teacher.

            “There’s been a mistake. You _must_ put the Hat back on my head so I can be sorted into the correct House.” Sirius sat stubbornly on the stool, his jaw clenched in a familiar determined expression.

            “Don’t be foolish.” Kettleburn tucked his wand into his robes and grabbed Sirius by the shoulders, lifting him from the stool and setting him on his own two feet. “Off you trot, Black!” Sirius cast a fearful look towards the silent Slytherins, and stumbled drunkenly to the Gryffindor table. As soon as he sat down many of the other Gryffindors shifted away from him as if he were a leper. Harry watched as Sirius stared down at his golden plate and struggled not to let the tears that filled his eyes fall.

The memory faded away, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves standing in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. Sirius didn’t look to be much older in this memory. He, James Potter, and a third boy who Harry belatedly recognized as Peter Pettigrew, were huddled around a thick dusty tome.

            “It all makes _sense_!” Sirius was whispering, nearly bouncing out of his seat with excitement. “The absences, the injuries, the dumb excuses… Lupin is a _werewolf_!”

            “I told you so.” Pettigrew said smugly.

            “Ickle Loopy Lupin is _not_ a werewolf!” James hissed angrily, shoving the book away in disgust. “He merely has a very large and abusive family, who all just so happen to die and fall ill during the full moons!”

            “Jimmy, denial is more than just a river in Egypt!” Sirius crowed, resulting in frantic hushing sounds. He continued on in a whisper. “You just don’t _want_ to see past those stupid specs of yours… Last month, Loopy told us that his goldfish died, and he had to go to its funeral. You don’t _have_ funerals for fish, Potter! You toss them down the loo.“

“First of all, don’t call me Jimmy. Secondly, I’ll pretend for a just a minute that Lupin _is_ a… a werewolf. What should we do? Should we tell Dumbledore? Or I can write to my father. He’s in Wizengamont.”

“I’m sure Dumbledore already knows.” Pettigrew said. “I don’t think that there’s _anything_ that goes on in this school that Dumbledore doesn’t already know about.” As if to prove his point, Pettigrew looked around as if he would find the Headmaster crouching behind a shelf.

“If Dumbledore recons he’s safe, then so do I.” James said with an air of finality. “Dumbledore may be crazier than a pixie hopped up on fizzing whizbees, but he’s not stupid. What say you, Black?”

            “ _I_ say, that if Loopy hasn’t eaten us yet, then he probably isn’t going to!” Sirius grinned wildly. “Let’s go tell him!” He leapt to his feet and darted out of the library. A terrified scream and a shriek of ‘BLACK!’ followed his departure.

            James heaved a great sigh and stood up, his chair squeaking loudly behind him. “C’mon, Pete. Lets go before he unleashes the rage of the Wolf.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Pettigrew and James to the Gryffindors boy’s Dormitories, where they found Lupin in the form of a tiny, sickly looking boy attempting to fend Sirius off with a ragged copy of the Daily Prophet. “ _Get away from me, you crazy person!_ James, _help_ me!”

“Can’t call him off, Chap. Sorry.” James smiled amiably. “Well… not until you can answer a few questions for us.”

“Anything, just- ow! _Get him off of me_!”

“Alrighty then!” James clapped his hands, and rubbed them together. “First question, how is your mother doing?”

Lupin blinked, confusion crossing over his face. “My moth- she’s fine.”

“So, she doesn’t ‘have a bad case of dyslexia’ then?”

“It’s getting better… thank you for asking.”

“Second question, why weren’t you in classes Thursday, Friday or this morning?”

Lupin’s face twitched. “The dyslexia took a turn for the worse Wednesday night and I had to floo home.”

“But you just said that she was fine.” Sirius pointed out, smirking knowingly.

            “She’s gotten much better since Wednesday night.” Lupin’s voice was icy. “It was lovely speaking to you fellows, but I should be getting to dinner. Dyslexia is hereditary and I must keep my strength up.” He began to make his way towards the door, when Sirius suddenly rugby tackled him and sat on his knees.

            “You shan’t be going anywhere, Laddie!” Sirius chirped happily. “Not until you tell us the _truth_.”

            “Fine! My mother isn’t suffering from Dyslexia… she actually has a very rare illness called Tetrachromatism, and it’s been a very traumatic experience for the Lupin family.”

            “You don’t have to lie about made up muggle illnesses anymore, Loop- Remus.” James said kindly, kneeling next to Lupin’s head. “We already know.”

“No!” Lupin began to struggle anew against Sirius’ bulk. “You _don’t_ already know! If you did you’d all be in Dumbledore’s office right now, trying to get me expelled or… or _put down_.”

            “Why would we want to get you expelled?” Pettigrew sounded genuinely confused. “If you leave Hogwarts, than no one will be here to do our History of Magic homework for us.”

            “You know damn well why, _get off_!” Lupin shouted, beginning to wriggle like a trout out water.

            “You’re our friend, Loopy.” James said stubbornly. “And we are not going to let you think otherwise.”

            “Fine, you love me! Now get Sirius off of me before he breaks my legs!”

            The memory changed, and three teenaged boys in winter robes were seen dragging a fourth boy, dressed only in flannel pajama pants and a thin Grateful Dead t-shirt, through the thickly falling snow towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to jog to keep up. 

            “That was a lot less dramatic than I expected.” Ron said, as the trio plodded after the quickly moving Marauders. ”Didn’t really expect them to take the werewolf thing so well.”

            “Not everyone can take news like that as well as you did.” Harry said mildly, feeling for the first time since delving into Sirius’ memories that he was seeing the Sirius that was known and loved by Harry and the rest of the Order.

            They followed the Marauders into the Forest, and walked deeper until they reached a small clearing. “Where have you taken me?” Lupin demanded as he was forced into the center of the clearing. “It’s too cold for your nonsense!”

            “Shut up.” James said cheerfully.

            “We. Are. In. A. _Clearing_!” Lupin’s face grew more and more sour with each word. “I have the most stupid, idiotic, foolish friends ever.” Lupin muttered angrily to himself. “Dragging me into the Forest in the bitter cold _without a cloak_ , when I could be, _inside._ ”

            “Remus, I assure you that you won’t think us ‘stupid and idiotic’ once you see what we’ve got to show you.”  James said seriously.

            Lupin snorted. “I don’t think that _anything_ could stop me from believing that you three are utter morons.”

            Sirius threw an arm around Lupin’s thin shoulders and pulled him close. “That may be true, my Fine Fuzzy Fellow, but give us the benefit of the doubt just this once. I promise you will not be disappointed.”

            “Yes, close your eyes.” Peter said eagerly. “You may still think that we’re idiots after this, but it’ll be worth it!”

            Lupin rolled his eyes. “If this is a joke I’m castrating the lot of you, and giving your pricks to Snivillus as a peace offering.”

            James grimaced. “Okay, I’ll admit that will be a reasonably fair reaction if this goes arse over tits… but you’ve _got_ to start trusting us, Remus.”

            Lupin huffed. “I’ll give you thirty seconds, but after that I’m heading back up to the castle where it’s _warm_.” Crossing his arms tightly, Lupin screwed his eyes up tight and set his mouth into a thin line. “Countdown starting now.” During the next few moments, Lupin had his eyes shut so missed the entire happenings of the subsequent twenty seconds. The air around Pettigrew, James, and Sirius began to shimmer with an odd magic. And then their limbs began to elongate and shrink and soon three animals were standing in the place of the three teenage boys.

            Lupin opened his eyes and caught sight of his friends. He frowned and stared at them for a few moments, and then his jaw dropped as comprehension crossed over his face. Lupin stared at his friends for a few more moments then, quite suddenly, started laughing hysterically.

            Sirius was the first to change back into a boy. He darted up to Lupin and wrapped him into a tight embrace. “Remus? Oh, drat… I think we broke him.”

            “I’m _not_ broken!”

            “ _Why are you laughing like that_?”

            “I don’t know!” Lupin howled, laughing harder until fat tears were rolling own his cheeks, and sagging against Sirius to stay upright.

            Sirius held the cackling boy in his arms and sent a panicked look toward the other two boys. ‘ _What do I do_?’ He mouthed urgently.

            Pettigrew glanced at James who shrugged. Sirius grimaced slightly.

            Lupin’s laughter died down to breathless gasps. “You three really are reckless, aren’t you? I shouldn’t have underestimated…”

            Harry was shocked. In his eyes, Lupin had always been calm and collected, if not a bit aloof. To see him showing this much emotion, even joy, was a shock, and it shook Harry almost as much, if not more, than seeing the Blacks dote upon Sirius. He had never seen such simple happiness in Lupin, not even when hearing news of the birth of his infant son.

            The memory faded away. Not long seemed to have passed, but for the first time since Sirius’ first memory he was alone. He was pacing in the corridor outside of the Hospital Wing, and upon looking closer Harry saw that Sirius’ face was blotchy and salt tracks streaked his face. He had obviously been crying only a few moments before.

            The door to the Hospital Wing opened, and Sirius spun on his heel. Harry’s father slowly walked out into the corridor, looking drained. Catching sight of Sirius, James stopped in his tracks. “What are you doing here, Black?” He whispered, voice icy with an unsaid threat. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

            Sirius opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it, swallowing tightly. “I… I just wanted to apologize-“

            “YOU DON’T GET TO APOLOGIZE!” James yelled, stepping forward and shoving Sirius hard in the chest. Sirius stumbled backwards, knocking into one of the suits of Armor that lined the halls. “YOU DON’T GET TO GO IN THERE AND ACT LIKE YOUR _SORRY_ AFTER WHAT YOU DID!”

            “I didn’t think-“

            “YOU _NEVER_ THINK, SIRIUS!” James pushed Sirius again, this time knocking him onto the floor. “YOU _NEVER THINK_ ABOUT WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN, AND NOW MOONY IS-“ James stopped speaking abruptly, and took a deep breath. “I don’t think that you realize, Black…” He continued in a dangerously soft voice. “What a seriously deep pile of _shite_ you put Remus in.”

            “As much as I’m inclined to agree with you, Mr. Potter-“ a third voice spoke up from the Hospital wing doorway. “I must ask that you make your point in a much quieter tone.“            Harry, Ron, Hermione and the two Marauders looked up to see Dumbledore standing grimly in the corridor.

            The headmaster looked the same as he had during Harry’s years at Hogwarts, but Harry had never seen Dumbledore look so disappointed in a student before. “You have violated the trust Mr. Black, of not only me, but the boy whom you call friend. You have also risked the life of an innocent-“ Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but Dumbledore held up his hand to halt his speech. “-Yes, _innocent,_ Mr. Black. Mr. Snape has never done anything to provoke a reaction such as this. The only reason that you are still in this school is because the young man laying in that room is insisting that you didn’t mean any harm.”

            “Remus is awake?” Sirius blurted, cutting off Dumbledore’s next few words. “Can I see him?”

            The lines around Dumbledore’s eyes tightened and his beard twitched, but, nevertheless, he stood aside and gestured to the Hospital Wing doors. Sirius rushed past the headmaster, leaving James spluttering in anger in the hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione darted into the Hospital Wing after him.

            The Hospital Wing was pristine and nearly empty. Only a teenaged Snape, looking drawn, lay sleeping in the bed closest to the door. Sirius barely spared him a glance and made his way straight to the back of the room. He entered a small room off of the side of the Hospital Wing, where Lupin was dozing in a large white bed. When Sirius entered the room, Lupin flickered open his light brown eyes, and fixed Sirius with a hard, cold stare.

            “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I’ll fucking kill you, you Putz.” Lupin grunted, pulling himself into a sitting position.

            “I’m sorry!” Blurted Sirius, falling onto the seat next to Lupin’s bed. “I didn’t mean to tell Snivel- Snape about your Furry Little Problem… he just kept calling you the most _awful_ things, and I told him to follow you to see just how much of a pillow-biter you really were-“

            “Wait-“ Lupin interrupted. “You sent one of our classmates to their deaths because they called me a _name_?” He stared at Sirius incredulously.

            “I just…” Sirius buried his face in his hands, his black hair tumbling between his fingers like liquid. “I _know_ you can take care of yourself, Moony. You’re no Damsel in Distress or nothing, but you shouldn’t _have_ to. And when Sniv- he kept making fun of you for the Quidditch Incident… he made it seem like it was wrong or- _why are you laughing?_ ”

            Lupin was indeed laughing, his whole body was shaking with mirth. “Padfoot, you are the most melodramatic person I have ever met.” He shuffled on the bed and patted the space behind him. “Come here and spoon me, I’m _exhausted_.”

            Sirius gave Lupin a frightened look, but obeyed, crawling into the small bed tentatively. Harry felt shock overwhelm his senses. He could handle seeing Lupin break down in tears, and he could almost handle Sirius looking up to his blood obsessed parents… but to see Sirius and Lupin _cuddling_ like a _couple_ rendered Harry’s mind blank. He couldn’t form thoughts or words. He glanced at Ron and Hermione to gauge their reactions, and was stunned. Hermione was gazing at them tenderly, and Ron was looking bored.

            “Did you two _know_ about this?” Harry demanded. Hermione looked away guiltily, but Ron merely shrugged.

            “After the third time I caught them going at it, I just sort of just assumed you knew too.”

            “They weren’t exactly subtle, Harry.” Hermione said softly. “I mean they sent you a _joint_ Christmas present.”

            Harry thought back on all the times that he had seen Lupin and Sirius together, it seemed obvious now. Their connection was undeniable, no matter how off-putting or shocking it seemed now. He thought about Tonks, and wondered if she knew about her Husband’s late lover.

            Turning his attention back to Sirius and Lupin, Harry watched them speak softly to each other.

            “Why are you forgiving me so easily?” Sirius was whispering. “I thought that you’d be angry with me.”

            “Oh, I’m furious.” Lupin said mildly. “I’m angry, and hurt, and every time I close my eyes, I imagine James coming too late.”

            “Then _why_ -“

            “Because in third year, you punched sixth year Willy Widdershins in the face because he knocked Wormtail’s books onto the ground.” Lupin interrupted. “Because you hexed Evans when she made Prongs cry that one time.” Lupin turned in the bed to lie face to face with Sirius. “Because the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and you _never_ think about the consequences. Even when it costs Gryffindor a game, or makes first years throw up when they see you or… or even reveals my _biggest_ secret to the slimiest git this side of the equator. But somehow I always know that your oversized heart is in the right place.”

            “I’m so sorry, Moony…” Sirius’ voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I’ll never-“

            “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.” Lupin laughed softly and kissed Sirius’ downturned mouth softly. Making a desperate sound in the back of his throat, Sirius pulled Lupin close, until not even a breeze could come between their gently moving bodies. Harry glanced away uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to seeing such easy affection in Lupin, as when he had been with Tonks Lupin had always been guarded and stiff. But with Sirius, Lupin was open and more alive than he had been even while teaching Harry at Hogwarts.

            Harry was so lost in is thoughts, that he barely registered the memory changing.

            The trio stood in a dark and smoky room. Peering through the smoke Harry saw that they were in the living area of an extremely messy flat. Four young men in their late teens or early twenties were sprawled on the bottle-littered floor, passing burning rolls of paper and talking quietly amongst themselves. A thick scent of plants saturated the memory with a fuzz of green and calm.

            With a jolt, Harry realized what the smoke was and why they all had lazy, content smile spreading across their faces.

            “Can’t b’lieve ‘m getting married t’morrow.” James was muttering, grinning lazily. “Can’t b’leive this’ ‘m last night as a free man.”

            “Tol’ you we shoulda got the stripper.” Sirius slurred. Lupin threw a pillow at him. It flopped to the ground pathetically, making Sirius giggle shrilly. “Sides, don’t you always say that you wan’ her to tie you up?”

            Ugh.” Pettigrew made a disgusted face. “Thanks for that lovely image.”

“Stop imaginin’ Lil in the nude!” James whined. “Is _rude_.”

            Lupin snorted with laughter, and then his face fell. “Fuck.” He looked over at Sirius. “Padfoot, I’m not smoking anything. Fix this.”

            “I’ve only had one hit, you junkie.” Sirius sighed, but handed the over to Lupin, who snatched at it and began to puff on it greedily with a happy expression on his face.

“I fucking love this.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sirius rolled his eyes affectionately. “You’ve been stoned since sixth year.”

            “Everyone fucking loves this.” James grunted, obviously more drunk than high. He stood up cautiously and calmly walked out of the room. Moments later, the distinctive sound of someone vomiting came from another room. Pettigrew, who had dozed off while staring at a mostly empty bottle of some amber liquid, jerked awake.

            “’M gonna go check on him.” Pettigrew muttered. “Don’t want him drowning in his own sick before he marries Evans.” He left, swaying slightly. There was a long, not exactly awkward, silence. Lupin set the joint gently on an ashtray, and then slowly crawled over to Sirius, wobbling slightly, and threw his legs over Sirius’ lap, knocking an empty bottle of something off of the coffee table. Sirius made an undignified sound as Lupin shifted to get comfortable, but wrapped his arms around Lupin’s thin waist and nuzzled into his neck.

            “I love it when you get like this.” Sirius whispered, bringing his hands down to palm at Lupin’s rear.

            “Like what? High?”

            “ _Frisky_.” Sirius’ had voice dropped to a low growl. “ _Aggressive_.” Lupin laughed, delighted, and then was abruptly silenced by Sirius’ mouth surging against his. Harry flushed and looked away, but he couldn’t block out the sounds of heavy wet kissing. Harry glance at his friends. Ron had taken a leaf out of Harry’s book and was staring determinedly at the wall behind Harry. Hermione, however, was staring at the couch with flushed cheeks and a glazed expression on her face. Harry glared at her, until she glanced at him guiltily. She narrowed her eyes.

            “ _What_?” Hermione hissed.

            “You _know_ what!”

She was about to defend herself, when Lupin let out a loud moan. “Christ, Pads…” Harry chanced a quick look over at the couch, and immediately regretted it. Sirius had his hand down the back of Lupin’s pants and was… doing _something_ that Harry did not want to think about.

“Fuck Moony… as much as I love how these pants fit your arse, we’ve got to get them off.” Sirius’ voice rang out clearly.

“We cant.” Lupin whispered, breathlessly. “Prongs and Wormtail are-“

“They’ve seen worse.” Sirius panted. “Remember that one time I had you bent over my knee and they walked in?”

“Couldn’t look us in the eye for weeks!” Lupin laughed. His laugh turned into something that sounded suspiciously like a squeal and then there was a soft thump and the sound of clothes being quickly removed filled the room. Heavy breathes turned into harsh panting and then, after a few moments, a slick squelching sound and then, skin slapping against skin. Harry felt his face heat up. He didn’t want to hear this, he didn’t want to be in the same room as his godfather whilst he had, what sounded like, vigorous sex with Harry’s old professor.

“Love you like this…” Sirius grunted, and the slapping sounds grew louder along with Lupin’s gasps and quivering moans. “Merlin! I never want to forget this moment… you’re so perfect-“

“Shush.” The sound of wet, sloppy kisses joined the other unmentionable noises in the room. “Don’t- ah! _There_! Don’t talk so much…”

Harry refused to look towards the sofa, which was now hitting the wall, thumping away at it hard enough that Harry was sure that the neighbors would have complaints. He didn’t know how long it lasted, whether seconds or minutes, but Lupin soon let out a long drawn out moan that was almost immediately followed by an almost painful sounding grunt from Sirius.

Deeming it safe to look now that _it_ was over, Harry glanced cautiously at the couch. Lupin was on his back with Sirius sprawled heavily between his legs, panting heavily, but with a smug expression fixed upon his face. “I love you so _fucking_ much, Remus.”

Lupin let out a small laugh. “I love you too.” The two shared a brief, yet passionate, kiss, before Lupin pulled away with a roguish grin. “Do you think we could go again?”

To Harry’s immense relief, the memory started to fade away before they could witness round two. The trio found themselves in a crowded church. Sirius was standing next to James at an altar, both wearing expensive looking muggle suits. They were staring at a beautiful woman in white walk slowly towards them clutching a bouquet of lilies in her dainty freckled hands. A rusty haired man with a bushy beard and moustache, that Slughorn would have been proud of, was guiding her. The man must have been Harry’s grandfather. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. His mother had been so beautiful…

A wide, foolish, grin was stretched over James’ face. Lily stopped next to him and smiled, her eyes already glistening with happy tears. The wedding Offciant smiled indulgently, and began to speak.

“Love, real true love, has brought us here today in holy matrimony. Marriage is what brings us together on this magical, magical day. Marriage that blessed arrangement. That dream within a dream. And love, true love will follow you forever in your hearts…”

The Offciant continued on this note for several more minutes. Harry looked around the church for familiar faces. Everyone from the original Order seemed to be there. Hagrid, with his large frame and bushy beard was in one of the back pews, as not to block the view. Mad Eye Moody was sitting next to Kingsley. McGonagall was in the second row next to Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey. Aunt Petunia was there, as a bridesmaid, standing in between a young Alice Longbottom and a woman Harry recognized from a photograph as Marlene McKinnon. Pettigrew and Lupin stood next to Sirius, and another man Harry didn’t recognize, as Ushers.

At the alter, Lily and James had began to say their vows.

“I, James Harold Potter, take thee, Lily Jane Evens . . . “

“I, Lily Jane Evens, take thee, James Charlus Potter . . . “

“For richer, for poorer . . . “

“In sickness and in health . . .”

“To love and to honor . . . “

“To hold and to keep . . . “

“From each sun to each moon . . .”

“From tomorrow to tomorrow . . . “

“From now to forever . . . “

“And till death do us part. “

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed. “

“You may now kiss the bride.”

James reached out and cupped Lily’s face as though it were made of the most fragile spun glass. As soon as his lips touched hers the bands on their fingers started to glow with a soft white light.

Lupin’s lip trembled, and he leaned into Sirius’ side. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”

“I didn’t!” Sirius bawled, and flung himself onto James, sobbing into James’ shoulder. The people in the church either looked alarmed or amused or both. “How could you just leave me like this?” It was definitely alarm.

            Bit of a fountain isn’t he?” Ron muttered, nudging Harry softly with his shoulder, though he wore a gentle expression that Harry had never seen on his friend’s freckled face before.

            “Oh, hush.” Hermione was watching the scene with a soft expression on her face. “It’s nice, really… seeing them so _human_ like this.” The trio looked back to where Sirius was still bawling and clutching at James.

“Padfoot, get off! People are staring!” James hissed. Sirius ignored him.

“You. Evens.” Sirius pointed a shaking finger at Lily. “You take good care of him. He’s quite stupid, and I fear he’ll get himself injured without me to take care of him.”

Lily nodded, with a serious expression. “I solemnly swear that I will take care of and love James for as long as I live.” She promised.

“Good.” Sirius wiped his eyes and pulled himself off of James. He suddenly sent a wide grin at Lily. “Guess I’d better start getting used to calling you by your proper name.”

            The scene changed. Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew were sitting in the hallway of a muggle hospital.

            “JAMES POTTER, I AM NEVER LETTING YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN!” A loud shriek rang out, making the three Marauders, as well as Harry, Ron, and Hermione, jump.

            “… I’m sorry…”

            “I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

            “I do!”

            “THEN WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?”

            “ _Ow_! Lily you’re breaking my hand!”

            “DON’T YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT _PAIN_!”

            There was a sudden ringing silence, and James staggered out the hospital room deathly pale. Sirius leapt to his feet. “Prongs what-“

            “I’m a Dad.” James looked up, his face sparkling with tears. “I’m a fucking _father_.”

            Harry smiled softly, as Hermione wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Tears pricked at his own eyes, as he watched his father embrace his friends.

            The memory faded away. The Golden Trio were in a small grey room. It was empty, except for a large dirty grey pile of rags in the far corner, a bucket with a nauseating smell emitting from it, and a dirty bowl caked with some sort of lumpy grey porraige.

            “Where are we?” Harry looked around for his Godfather. “Where’s Sirius?”

Hermione pointed at the clump of grey cloth. “I think we’re in Azkaban.”

As soon as she spoke the heap of rags started to move and Sirius stumbled to his feet. Harry gasped. He was even thinner then he was when Harry first spoken to him at the Shrieking Shack. Sirius started to shake violently and the next moment he had shuddered himself into the form of a large black dog. Padding over to the barred doors he slipped through and left the grey room behind.

The memory changed. Sirius was loping in dog form down a dark street in Privet Drive. There was muffled shouting coming from a nearby house. The door of the house burst open, and Harry watched his thirteen-year-old self stormed down the street. Sirius followed him at a distance, until past Harry collapsed on a curb. Sirius shuffled closer and past Harry looked up and met his eyes.

The memory changed again. They were in the Shrieking Shack. Thirteen-year-old Harry was straddling Sirius, Pointing a wand at his throat.    

“Blimey, that looks really bad from here.” Rot muttered.

Suddenly, muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor - someone was moving downstairs.   

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Thirteen-year-old Hermione screamed. "WE'RE UP HERE - SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!" The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and past Harry wheeled around as Lupin came hurtling into the room his face white, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over past Ron, lying on the floor, over past Hermione, cowering next to the door, to past Harry, standing there with his wand covering Sirius, and then to his lover, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.   

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.   Past Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two past Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. Lupin spoke, a voice that shook. "Where is he, Sirius?"

            For a few seconds, Sirius didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand, and pointed straight at past Ron.  

 "But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Sirius "... why hasn't he shown himself before now?” Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, "- unless he was the one ... unless you switched ... without telling me?"  

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Sirius nodded.   

"Professor Lupin," Past Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going -?"  Lupin was lowered his wand and walked to Sirius’ side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced him.

The memory shifted. They were in a deserted classroom, somewhere in Hogwarts. Sirius was sitting in a chair, with his hands in his matted hair.

There was a tapping at the window and Sirius looked up curiously. What he saw made his jaw drop. Past Harry and Hermione were sitting on Buckbeak outside to the window. Sirius leapt to the window and struggled to open it.

Past Hermione yelled something, and a moment later the window sprung open.

"How - how -?" said Sirius weakly, staring at the Hippogriff.

"Get on - there's not much time," said Past Harry, gripping Buckbeak firmly. "You've got to get out of here - the Dementors are coming. Macnair's gone to get them."

Sirius placed a hand on either side of the window-frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak's back, and pull himself onto the Hippogriff behind Past Hermione.

"Okay, Buckbeak, up!" Shouted Past Harry, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower - come on!" They were soaring upwards again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements and Past Harry and Hermione slid off him at once.

"Sirius, you'd better go, quick," past Harry panted. "They'll reach Flitwick's office any moment, they'll find out you've gone."

"What happened to the other boy? Ron?" asked Sirius urgently.

"He's going to be okay - he's still out of it, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be able to make him better. Quick - go!"

Sirius stared down at past Harry. "How can I ever thank -"

"GO!" Past Harry and Hermione shouted together.

Sirius wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

"We'll see each other again," he said. "You are - truly your father's son, Harry...”

The memory faded away, and Sirius was standing outside a small, careworn cottage. Sirius rapped weakly on the door and a few moments later the door swung open and Harry saw Lupin standing in the doorway.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Dumbledore told me to lie low at Lupin’s.” He wore a face of false bravado, and spread his arms out wide. “So here I am!””

“Padfoot…” Lupin choked, and flung himself into Sirius’ bony arms. “Lie low with me for as long as it takes!” His voice was muffled against Sirius’ ragged robes. “Never leave me again.”

“I wont.” Silent tears rand down Sirius’ cheeks as he clutched Lupin against him. “I wont.”

“Promise.” Lupin grabbed Sirius by the front of his cloak and glared furiously at him. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Harry Potter and his friends felt themselves slowly rise out of the Penseive, and they found themselves back in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding vows borrowed from West Side Story, and Offcient's speech borrowed from Princess Bride


End file.
